


Ceremony

by Vizhi0n



Series: Judging You Softly [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Begging, Comic Spoilers, Dirty Talk, F/M, Judging You Softly, Negan's potty mouth, NeganSmutWeek, Self-Insert, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizhi0n/pseuds/Vizhi0n
Summary: Negan needs comfort after burying Lucille





	

 

“What’s he doing?” I limped over to the window. Michonne glanced at me, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

My eyes were fixated on Negan, so her silence didn’t bother me. He was kneeling, agony evident on his features. He seemed to be speaking, his attention focused on the small cross he’d built. 

He was burying someone. Something.

_Her_.

I squeezed my fists together, limping over to the door. Michonne stopped me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“To see him,” I replied casually. Her gaze softened as she took in my battered form. I was still injured from Beta’s beating, though not as badly as before. I wasn’t concussed anymore - or was I? I didn’t know. Sometimes I found myself having difficulty thinking. Or talking. But I’d done that before. 

_Hah. Beta made your brain damage worse, I guess._

“Rick want’s you to stay inside,” Michonne said sternly. “And so do I.”

I gnawed on my lower lip, shooting a glance out the window once more. I said absently, “I’m not going to run away again. I can’t even run,” I shifted, putting just a little weight on my twisted ankle. It was swollen from the hard kick Beta had given it, and for a while we’d wondered if he’d broken it. 

Michonne released my shoulder. Her jaw twitched and she glared in Negan’s direction, saying, “Go. But I’ll be watching. Just in case he tries—”

“He won’t,” I said softly. “He can’t.”

Michonne opened the front door for me, and I hopped down the stairs on my good foot. I could see Saviors and Alexandria’s alike milling around, exhausted from the battle. I felt a twinge of sorrow - I my ass hadn’t gotten injured, I’d have been fighting with them. Fighting with _Negan_. 

_He’s a grown man!_

_A grown man who always seems to get into some fuck shit!_

I limped over to where he was kneeling, hesitant to interrupt. He saw me approach and stared for a moment, as if he didn’t recognize me. He had a cut on his forehead and his left eye was swollen, his overall appearance haggard.

“Yo,” I said, cringing at how casual I sounded. I was awful at comforting people. “You’re not dead. Cool.”

Negan didn’t reply. It was the first time he’d left me standing in silence. 

I glanced at the cross, ducking my head and wringing my fingers together. “I’m sorry about her.”

“Yeah,” Negan replied hollowly.

I sighed and lurched forward, easing onto the grass next to him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the blinds to Rick’s home shift, and Michonne’s face briefly flash into view. Ignoring her prying eyes, I sat up a bit and reached out to examine his wounds.

“You should fucking be inside, resting. I was going to come see you after I…said goodbye.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather be here. So you’re not alone.”

Negan smiled. It was a sad, pitiful smile. I squeezed his hand, staring at the lump of dirt that contained the remains of his barbed bat. Without thinking I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his mouth, keeping hold of his hand.

When I pulled away, Negan furiously wiped the tears from his eyes, steeling himself. He slowly got to his feet, helping me stand. I held his arm for support.

“You need rest,” I said softly. “C’mon. You remember where my house is, right?”

Negan nodded. I saw the blinds to Rick’s home open wider as Michonne glared. I raised my hand, mouthing for her to _trust me._ She knew me — she’d always known me. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t going to run.

Not this time.

I half-dragged Negan into the house, shutting the door behind me and gesturing to the stairs. He trudged up them, boots heavy against the wooden floor. He removed them as soon as he reached the top of the stairs, stretching sore limbs and turning to face me as I hopped up one stair at a time.

“I almost fucking killed Beta,” Negan growled suddenly. “I’m going to fucking…kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him so he won’t fucking hurt you again.”

“Don’t risk this for my sake, please,” I said. “Don’t. Just don’t do it. I’m not worth it.”

“You are _fucking_ worth it.”

_Ah, shit. Now you’re crying. Goddamit. Cry-sex is never hot…_

Okay, yeah, cry sex was fucking awkward. He could taste my tears and he kissed them away. Injured-cry-sex was even strangers, cause Negan had to carry me like a baby to the bed, where ehe gently discarded me before removing his jacket and shirt and pants while I watched, mouth watering in anticipation.

“How do you want it? Ass up?”

“My mobility is, uh, restricted dude…”

Negan smirked. “It’ll be worse tomorrow morning, I promise you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I mumbled against his mouth, sighing into the kiss. He was hesitant, peering into my eyes as I reassured him that, yes, I wasn’t fucking made of glass and I could take the pain.

I brushed my mouth across his chest, pressing soft kissing against his skin. I dug my fingers into the hair peppering his chest, feeling him grunt and shift his hips a bit.

“You’ve gotten fucking better,” Negan groaned as I shimmied his boxers down hislegs, chuckling as I did so. He added, “Fucking good. Fucking fantastic.”

“Bruh…that’s a serious compliment. Seriously,” I wrapped my fingers around him, swiping my thumb across the head of his cock. He groaned, the muscles in his jaw and neck twitching. My mouth latched onto his neck and, stifling groans of pain - because moving hurt - I straddled his waist. 

“It’s fucking great,” Negan grunted. “ _Fuck_ , baby—”

“We should fucking try some shit I saw on urban dictionary,” I mumbled against his skin. He muttered some expletives as a reply, confirming that he’d been too focused on the hand wrapped around his penis to even listen to what I’d said.

_Fuck. Yes._

I pulled away, smirking and removing my own clothes. Slowly. A lame strip-tease that lasted, like, ten seconds before Negan became impatient and sat up, holding me in his lap and sucking my bare breast into his mouth. 

“Slow down, dude!”  
“Fuck no,” Negan rumbled. “—need to be inside you fucking _now_.”

“You ain’t getting anywhere with that attitude, sir — _fuck_!”

“You like that shit?” Negan grinned like a shark, letting me fall against the bed. Asshole had the upper hand - as usual. This position was nice. I could feel all of him this way - his heat, his tongue and hands and cock…

_I fucks with this._

“So fucking hot, _shit_ ,” Negan groaned. He sat up, palming his dick and teasing it against my opening. I whined, mouth open.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me? Not play around?”

“I want you to fucking beg,” Negan purred. My eyes went wide and I slammed my mouth shut immediately, staring up at him. He said, “Make some fucking noise for me. Tell me that you want it—”

“I want it.”

Negan’s face fell and he rolled his eyes. “Like you actually mean it. Shit - not all monotone.”

I dared a glance down. I was spread eagle and Negan was being a fucking tease. Fuck him. Seriously. He slid the head of his cock into my cunt, before pulling back and and grinning down at me.

“You are the worst,” I whined.

“I won’t be if you beg.”

“If you don’t stick it in me _immediately_ —” 

“That’s fucking good enough,” Negan murmured, snapping his hips forward and filling me completely. I gasped, back arching as my fingers scrambled for purchase against the bedsheets. Negan’s big hands ran down my shoulders, to my waist.

“Don’t squeeze there it hurts,” I grunted as he fucked me. “I have a Beta-shaped hole in my ribs.”

Negan murmured a curse before sliding his hands back up my body, resting one palm against my throat. I deftly sucked his thumb into my mouth, and his pace increased. 

“Ah, fucking _fuck_ ,” Negan panted through hooded eyes. I probably sounded like a dog with the way I was whining, lips parted. “C’mon, c’mon baby. What if I fucked you from behind, huh? What if I fucked your tight asshole—”

“You stick your dick in there, I’m sticking my foot up your ass.”

“Duly fucking noted,” Negan leaned over, caging my body with his and pressing a hard kiss against my mouth. I felt his tongue swipe against mine, and that was when I couldn’t take it - I came, hard, clenching around him and screaming into his mouth.

He grunted and pulled out, jerking himself off before he released thick ropes of come across my stomach and thighs. 

“Fucking hell,” Negan groaned, brushing a strand of hair from my eyes. He cradled my head in his hands, regaining his breath. “Shit…”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” I mumbled, kissing him once more. “Like, seriously. If someone had popped you off I swear…”

“I’m here,” Negan murmured, kissing the top of my head. “I’m right fucking here.”

My head shot up.

_Someone knock, knock, knocking on the door…_

_Shit._

Negan met my gaze, raising his eyebrows. He rolled off the bed, hastily putting on his boxers and pants - and only his boxers and pants - before gesturing for me to stay.

“Clean yourself up. I’ll get it—”

“That is a bad decision,” I slid off the bed, gasping when I nearly buckled and fell over, the wall saving me from face-planting. “I bet it’s Michonne. If it’s Michonne she’s gonna beat you up—”

“I bet she fucking can’t.”

“You have not seen Mama Michonne pissed,” I breathed, searching for my pants. I sighed and resorted to my bathrobe, pathetically darting into the bathroom and grabbing it off the door handle. I slid my sore limbs through the armholes as I followed Negan down the stairs, desperately praying that we’d get a chance to, ya know, explain ourselves.

“Negan, let me—” I limped, straying behind, but it was already too late. He’d answered the door, yanking it open and leaning against the doorframe, bare chest still flushed with adrenaline, hair a complete mess atop his head.

I skidded to a half, wrapping my arms around myself and meeting Michonne’s gaze.

“Hel- _fucking_ -lo,” Negan said jauntily. “Can we help you with anything?”

“Rachel—”

“I’m here,” I blurted out, tiptoeing across the floor and ducking underneath Negan’s arm, gathering the strength to look Michonne in the eye. She didn’t seem fazed.

_She knew ya’ll’s were fucking._

“Do you…need some time to get dressed? Rick want’s to see you. Both of you, at the church, along with everyone else.”

“Okay, thank you,” I nodded, and Michonne returned the gesture. She gave Negan one last suspicious glance before turning on her heels and retreating down the street, towards the church.

“She’s a nice lady,” Negan said. 

“She’s cool, I know. She has a sword. Which is extra-cool.”

Negan chuckled, looking down at me and shutting the door. He headed towards the stairs, but stopped when he saw me trailing behind, bum ankle dragging. 

“C’mere—”

“I got it — Negan!” I squealed in excitement as he scooped me into his arms, heading up the stairs. 

“Much fucking better. Now, you and I both need a fucking shower before we go meet your fearless leader.”


End file.
